


Brave in the Face of Adversity

by fadagaski



Series: A Little Slice of Normality [1]
Category: Mad Max Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Children, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Parents, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Mechanic Furiosa, Sick Character, Stay-at-Home Parent Max
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2015-10-31
Packaged: 2018-04-29 02:50:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5113418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fadagaski/pseuds/fadagaski
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Modern!AU. Dad!Max and Fury!Mom looking after their five daughters when a childhood sickness hits the household.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brave in the Face of Adversity

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Captains_Orders](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Captains_Orders/gifts).



> So it's Captains_Orders' birthday.
> 
> "Request a fic!" says I.
> 
> "Fluff!" says they.
> 
> So I wrote fic with vomiting children in it. *shrug*

Furiosa comes home from the garage in her usual state: greasy and oily and sporting some painful cuts to her fingers, but satisfied way down deep from a day's honest hard work. The evening ahead is nothing special – no birthdays, no school plays (thank god), no legion of biker aunts and grandmothers swinging into town – just her, Max, five girls and a movie. And maybe some popcorn.

It'll probably be 'Brave' again. Furiosa will grouse, because that's what they've come to expect, and they like to argue until she's beaten in this one thing, but really? The girls could choose a worse film to obsess over. 

She opens the back door into the kitchen and is immediately hit by the smell all parents dread: vomit. Acidic, cloying, it makes her eyes water as she slaps a hand over her mouth. 

Max, bent in half at the washing machine, looks up. He is wearing only his underpants. 

Furiosa's eyebrows arch upwards.

Max shrugs and stuffs the last armful of laundry into the machine, closing it with a quiet click and cranking the dial to 'Extra Hot'. 

From the living room comes the sound of coughing, and retching. Cheedo mewls a pathetic little cry that hooks Furiosa straight in the heart, drags her through the door. 

The curtains are drawn, the room swathed in black. It feels musty and close and the smell – god, the smell is stomach-churning. The sofa-bed has been pulled out, and there are five little heads poking out of the nest of ancient patterned blankets. 

Max swoops in just as Dag rolls to vomit, getting a bucket under her in time for the wet splash, his other hand holding her hair back. Angharad rubs her back soothingly, Capable tucked against her side and Toast squished between the two of them. Cheedo catches sight of Furiosa and lifts her arms.

“Ma,” she whines, repeats it even as Furiosa plucks her from the sofa-bed. She is glowing hot, naked but for her diaper, with flecks of god-knows-what in the tangled mess of her hair. Cheedo cuddles in close, head tucked under Furiosa's chin, and she rocks side to side, humming a little song under her breath. 

“I want a shower,” Angharad mutters. 

“Me too,” Toast, predictably, says. Capable looks up with fever-bright eyes. Max glances at Furiosa, and she nods imperceptibly. This is the communication they know.

“You three can shower together in our bathroom,” Furiosa says. She sits on the side of the mattress, strokes her hand through Dag's limp hair. Angharad and Toast wriggle out of the bed. Capable doesn't have the strength, sapped by sickness; Max lifts her into his arms, gentle as a newborn, and the four stagger up the stairs. 

Furiosa leans back, Cheedo snoozing on her chest, Dag curled against her thigh, and drifts to the sound of the pipes clunking.

She wakes to fingers stroking her cheek. It's Max, looking at her with soft eyes. He's been busy while she slept; the room is clear of foul-smelling buckets and bowls, and he himself is washed and dressed in pyjama pants and a t-shirt, his hair sticking up in all manner of creative ways. Upstairs, the girls are shuffling around. 

“Your arm,” he says in his truncated way, to mean that she should take it off or her shoulder and neck will not thank her in the morning. Nodding, Furiosa slips off the sofa-bed, Cheedo still cradled close. 

“We should give these two a bath,” she says. 

Max carries Dag as carefully as he carried Capable, who passes them on the stairs looking a little more human. The three eldest, clean and smelling of their ridiculous bubblegum shower gel, straighten the blankets on the sofa-bed before climbing back in. Furiosa hears the TV switch on, Spongebob's nasal voice bleating out of the speakers. 

Max props Dag up on the toilet seat while he runs the bath. Furiosa waits, rocking Cheedo again. The two girls both cry when their parents set them into the lukewarm water. Max shushes them, pouring water over Dag's hair and massaging in shampoo. It's an awkward balance but Furiosa scoops handfuls to dampen Cheedo's hair, running fingers through to loosen knots and wipe away whatever ickiness has worked its way in.

They don't prolong it. Quick as they can, Max and Furiosa hoist the girls out of the tub, wrapping them in fluffy towels and cuddling them close. Cheedo looks better already, eyes open and alert. Dag still has high spots of colour on her cheeks but she clings like a monkey to Max, and Furiosa takes that as a good sign. 

Max looks at her over the top of Dag's blonde head. “Go shower,” he murmurs, lifting one arm towards her, to take Cheedo. 

Furiosa sighs, nods, steps forward to pass their youngest over. Presses a warm kiss against his lips, and her heart is aching with how much she loves this man. 

“Go,” Max says when she pulls back, voice gone hoarse. 

Never one to take her time, she showers double-fast, not least because the hot water is all but gone. Shivering, she slips on pyjamas and heads downstairs. 

The light is on, dimmed, and the girls are all tucked up under the covers. Max has the right hand space, Cheedo upright on his lap, Dag curled into his side. 

“Can we watch 'Brave'?” Angharad asks before Furiosa has even made it to the bottom of the staircase. Leaning on her sister's shoulder, Capable perks up enough to send her mother a pleading look. 

Furiosa huffs a mock sigh. “Oh, alright. Since you're sick,” she says. 

The girls give a little cheer.

Toast works the remote control – she's better at figuring out Netflix than anyone else – while Furiosa scoots into the only space left. Angharad, her strong big girl, tilts into her side. Furiosa presses a kiss to the crown of her head, wraps her half arm over her shoulders. Toast decides to sprawl sideways across all of them.

The music starts – Scottish and grating, but whatever, it could be worse – and Furiosa lets her head fall back. Max's fingers drift over her shoulder, a gentle caress, and when she meets his eyes he smiles.

Just another day.

**Author's Note:**

> Come join me on tumblr for [more Mad Max mayhem](http://fadagaski.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
